


Maybe Tonight

by npse



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, First Dance, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, background isabelle/meliorn, holiday au, platonic magnus/raphael, simon is a human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9098701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/npse/pseuds/npse
Summary: Magnus convinces (forces) Raphael to let him throw a Holiday party in their shared apartment and they both get more than they bargained for. Or the AU where Alec and Magnus meet at a holiday party and human Simon hangs out with Raphael in the snow.[Written as a take on the prompt: Magnus holds a Christmas-themed party at Pandemonium every year as an excuse to be around his friends and get drunk before everyone goes out of town. But after dragging Raphael reluctantly from their apartment both men find themselves allured with two new men in their lives, thanks to his friend Isabelle.]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pseudofoucault333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofoucault333/gifts).



> Hi! This is my first published work in this fandom so please be kind to me and let me know what you think! I wrote this as part of the Shadowhunters Fic Exchange that was run on Tumblr! Mostly fluff since we all need a nice happy read at the end of a busy, painful year. 
> 
> This fic is for Fei - I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long to get it out to you but hopefully the wait is worth it!!
> 
> Thanks to the mods of the fic exchange for being patient with me and to my sweet beta Michelle for putting up with me. 
> 
> Happy holidays to all!
> 
> Beta'd by Michelle (malec-clace-sizzy-delena-clizzy on tumblr) of the Shadowhunters Beta Net.

Raphael’s still half asleep when Magnus silently pushes a piece of paper towards him across their dining table. He’s been awake for maybe half an hour at best and he can’t help but squint at the paper while he nurses his red liquid breakfast, mind too foggy to really read any of the printed words. He flicks his gaze to Magnus, who is busy pretending to peruse the newspaper that is messily spread out across the table, as if it is an early Sunday morning and not a very late Saturday evening, and feels a certain wave of inexplicable fondness.

They’re both nocturnal; Magnus’ love of the bustling New York night life and Raphael’s love of, well, not dying (again) ensuring they both sleep their days away and shuffle around the apartment together once the sun has set, and the image of typical morning activities taking place in their apartment under shining lights against glittering evening cityscapes makes Raphael laugh. He somehow still isn’t totally used to the company of a nocturnal platonic life partner, regardless of how many years of friendship they’ve shared, but things are different now and maybe different means he’ll get used to it.

As it is, though, Raphael can’t help but be sceptical of his roommate, who is a suspicious picture of innocence as he daintily brings a tea cup to his lips and deliberately keeps his attention focused on the newspaper spread out in front of him, ignoring Raphael’s burning strare. Magnus’ act forces Raphael to wake up enough that he can pick up the paper and examine it.

“No way,” he says immediately, his eyes having scanned the crucial information quite quickly.

“Raph, hear me out,” Magnus tries but Raphael drops the paper back to the table, latching onto his breakfast once more, sucking at it like a juice box. A bloody juice box.

“There is nothing to hear. It is not happening,” Raphael says, cool as a cucumber.

Magnus puts his tea cup down with a little more force than necessary, the gesture betraying the even expression on his face.

“It’s my house,” Magnus says calmly.

“But we’re roommates,” Raphael counters, “And do I not compensate you for my presence here? So surely I get a say in whether we host a party or not.”

“You get some input, of course,” Magnus says, “But ultimately it’s my decision.”

“Then why even bring it up?”

“Consider it a courtesy.”

Raphael narrows his eyes. “Then consider my not being here during the party a courtesy as well.”

“Raphael,” Magnus sighs, leaning his elbows on the paper covered table and setting his chin in his hands. He pouts at his stubborn best friend. “Why do you insist on ruining my fun?”

“Because that’s how I have fun,” Raphael sneers.

Magnus narrows his eyes and drags the container of blood away from Raphael’s reach.

“We are having a holiday party, Raphael, and you will be in attendance.”

“ _Dios_ ,” Raphael laughs, “Are you trying to be forceful? Because we’ve tried this before, remember? And it wasn’t us.”

Magnus would blush if he were a lesser man, unbelievably old memories of their failed attempt at romance coming to the forefront of his mind. It was a confusing time of trial and error for the both of them and all the experiments ended with them agreeing that they were best as friends. That, of course, opened up Magnus’ heart even more to the young vampire and he found himself yearning to look after him in all the ways that Raphael didn’t look after himself – especially emotionally.

“I’m trying to help you,” Magnus says, pulling the glass out of Raphael’s reach when his friend stretches across the table for it.

“Help me with what?”

“With eternity,” Magnus says, rolling his eyes.

Raphael groans, “Not this again.”

“I’m not saying you have to live as largely as I do,” Magnus starts carefully, “But a little comfort never hurt anybody.”

“Is that what this is?” Raphael asks, picking up the paper again. “It says holiday party but it’s actually an orgy, isn’t it?"

Magnus laughs, “That was the old me, Raph, the new me is much more particular.”

“I’m sure,” Raphael replies, voice doubtful. “Can I have that back yet?”

Magnus looks at the container of blood and then at Raphael, considering. “Will you come to the party?”

“No.”

“Then, no.”

“You know I could just come and take it, right?” Raphael challenges.

Magnus’s eyes spark, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Bring it on, warlock.”

“If I win, you have to come to the party.”

“Good thing you won’t be winning, then,” Raphael sneers and leaps over the table, knocking the blood and Magnus flying.

*********

Thankfully, Raphael didn’t have to tell anybody that the reason he was in attendance at Magnus’ religion-inclusive holiday bonanza was because he lost a fight against him. Magnus had been so kind as to avoid the topic as well. Considering their powerful positions in their respective communities, they both agreed that it was best not to mention their childish problem solving methods or Raphael’s consequential loss.

Instead, as the two of them greet guests as they arrive and field questions as to Raphael’s presence at the party despite his notorious reclusive tendencies, they both settle on insisting that the vampire is there because he is, when the mood strikes him, actually a good friend. Raphael and Magnus make sure to look acceptably insulted whenever a guest looks too surprised by this excuse.

Despite this, it doesn’t take long for Raphael to sneak out of Magnus’ field of vision but the warlock is far too busy playing the perfect host to pay too much mind to where his anti-social friend has hidden away to. Instead, Magnus swans through the room, chattering and conjuring drinks for people with a swish of his hand and changing the songs as requested with a simple click of his fingers.

The room is packed with all kinds of people and creatures, drinking and laughing and dancing and grinding, and the fairy lights and twinkling festive decorations look incredible. Glitter adorns so much of Magnus’ apartment that no guest is left untouched by the stuff and he can already hear Raphael’s bitter complaints about being covered in the stuff for the foreseeable future but sometimes sacrifices have to be made, and Raphael’s masculinity is one sacrifice Magnus is willing to make, especially for the sake of festive decorations.

Magnus relishes in the power of throwing a perfect party. Being able to attend to the needs of everyone under his roof makes him feel strong and capable, despite the fact that he is capable of handling situations far more serious than drunken mishaps in his apartment. While he loves to get wild with his friends, he loves running the show even more. Being responsible for making a good environment for everyone in attendance fills him with a sense of purpose, which is why he peruses the party so diligently, reading body language and eavesdropping on his guests in order to make the necessary alterations to ensure the optimum level of party-goer satisfaction.

Consequently, it is during this process that he first sees _him_.

Tall, lanky and lazily leaning against a wall as far away from the dance floor as he can get, as if he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to be doing here if not silently judging from the sidelines. Magnus is a little endeared already, by the leather jacket, the tight pants, and the messy hairdo, but he is especially taken by the bored expression on his face that leaves the man’s lips somewhere between a smirk and a grimace.

“Can I get you a drink?” Magnus offers, having sidled up beside him after crossing through the crowd. The man is without a doubt the most attractive unfamiliar face in the whole room and Magnus knows better than to leave a pretty face alone for too long.

“No.”

The man’s expression doesn’t change upon Magnus’ arrival, nor does he shift his gaze from the spot he’s focused on in the writhing crowd of the dancefloor. Feeling oddly affronted, Magnus follows the direction of his gaze and sees Isabelle Lightwood, arms in the air and silky hair shining under the strobe lights of the party as she dances with her back against the front of a grinning Meliorn. Magnus was only vaguely acquainted with this particular faerie but he knew Isabelle fairly well, the two of them running in similar circles when it came to partying. They both had exceptional taste, after all.

“Ah, I see. I wouldn’t go there, if I were you,” Magnus warns, voice mischievous as he leans in closer to the man. “She’s a heart breaker, that one.”

The man just snorts but keeps watching her anyway and Magnus can only shrug.

“Suit yourself, pretty boy, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He’s about to wander off when he notices the man is finally looking at him. It’s dark in the room and the flashing lights don’t help matters much but Magnus thinks he can see a hint of pink on the man’s cheekbones.

“P-pretty?” the man stutters out, eyebrows crinkling together in the most adorable look of confusion Magnus has ever seen.

“What? You’ve never had a man call you pretty before?” Magnus asks, and he’s teasing of course, but when the other guy drops his gaze to his shoes and rubs at the back of his neck, he realises he’s hit a jackpot. Magnus silently adds the way the man looks at that moment to his mental list of endearing things he does. “Well, I consider it a privilege to have been the first. Magnus Bane.”

The man lifts his head, eyeing Magnus’ extended hand before taking it gently. His gaze flicks up to meet Magnus’, eyes sparkling.

“Alec,” he says, and there’s a dopey smile on his face that’s growing by the second and Magnus can’t help but smile back. Their hands tighten slightly in their grip on each other.

“Oh good, you two have met!” A voice calls out and their attention is dragged from each other as Isabelle Lightwood swans over. Alec immediately drops Magnus’ hand and Magnus flicks his gaze from Isabelle just in time to see Alec wipe his palm on the front of his skinny black jeans. They hadn’t really done anything, their hand shake, more like a soft hand hold anyway, over before it had even really begun, and Magnus can’t help but feel like it’s a bad omen for him and this beautiful boy.

He tries not to let it weigh him down as he smiles back at Isabelle instead, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “Isabelle, you look ravishing as always.”

Isabelle preens at the attention and giggles. “I’m glad you approve.”

“I’m not the only one,” Magnus quips, tilting his head in the direction of the dance floor. Meliorn is still in the depths of the crowd, swaying just off beat as he keeps his eyes on Isabelle. She waggles her fingers at him.

“He has an eye for the natural beauties of the world.”

Alec snorts and Isabelle whips her attention back to him, shooting him a glare.

“I hope my brother isn’t boring you too much, Magnus. He really isn’t the partying type – I basically had to _drag_ him here-“

“That’s not true,” Alec interjects but Isabelle raises her eyebrows at him and he lets it drop.

Magnus’s eyebrows raise at this new piece of information – the staring from earlier taking on a different meaning now he knows the reality of their relationship – but he recovers quickly.

“Dragged here or not, I’m glad you could make it,” Magnus says smoothly, focus entirely on Alec as he does so. Alec holds his gaze for a moment, lips twitching at the edges as they fight off smiling too big at Magnus’ flirting. Eventually he drops his gaze and Magnus can’t help but smile smugly into the rim of his drink as he takes a sip.

Isabelle looks suspiciously between the two of them. “Have I missed something here?”

“No,” Alec answers almost too quickly, blushing slightly.

“We’re just getting to know each other,” Magnus covers cooly.

“Sure,” Isabelle says pointedly, a knowing smile on her face as she looks between Magnus and her brother. She flicks a glance back over her shoulder and sees Meliorn looking lonely, smiling at the thought.. “I guess I should be getting back out there.  I can’t make him wait for me forever.”

“I’m sure he would if you did,” Magnus quips, lips curving into a smirk as Isabelle giggles.

“You’ll join me for a dance though, later, right?” she asks.

“Have you ever known me to avoid the dance floor?”

“Well that makes one of you, I guess,” she says flippantly, shooting a loaded look at her brother. “Try and have some fun while you’re here, Alec.”

Magnus nods as she leaves, swallowed up by the crowd of writing bodies, before turning his attention back to Alec. The taller boy looks uncomfortable, eyes following Isabelle on her way back to Meliorn, and his jaw set tightly.

“So you’re a Lightwood,” Magnus says, slow and inviting, trying to tease Alec into more conversation.

 “Isabelle and I are very different.”

“I can see that,” Magnus nods, giving Alec a more deliberate once over. “Different is good.”

Alec’s cheeks redden again and Magnus feels a sense of accomplishment.

“Do you want to dance?”

Alec’s eyes widen some before he starts to stutter, awkwardly fumbling over his words in his haste to reject Magnus’ offer. “Da- I don’t- I can’t-“

Magnus smirks. “You can’t dance or you won’t dance – which is it?”

“Both,” Alec says definitively.

Magnus feels a challenge coming on and gently bites at the inside of his lip. “Would you like to?”

“What?”

“Dance.”

Alec looks out at the crowd all dancing to some bopping tune in another language. “With all those people?”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Magnus says, shaking his head slightly, and Alec looks back to him. There’s something in his expression that makes Magnus melt a little, a sparkle in his eyes that directly contradicts the concerned dip to his eyebrows, and he can’t help but want to make something special happen.

“Come with me,” he says eventually, and leads the way down a hallway. He doesn’t look behind him to check, but he knows Alec is following, albeit a few paces behind, as if he struggled with the decision before finally making it. Magnus opens the door into a room no brighter than the main living room, but certainly a little quieter and a lot less populated.

“Where are we?” Alec asks, casting his gaze around the room.  

“This is my bedroom,” Magnus answers, “I would normally have a guest book for you to sign but it filled up last week and I haven’t gotten around to replacing it yet.”

Alec pauses from where he was glancing around at the various trinkets and tapestries to shoot Magnus a confused look. Magnus’ playful demeanour drops some.

“I’m kidding,” Magnus assures, clearing his throat awkwardly as he adds, “You’re actually one of the few to come in here – I’m usually very picky about sees this version of it.”

“I’m honoured,” Alec says sarcastically and it’s the most attitude Magnus has seen from the boy the whole time they’ve been interacting and he can’t help but laugh. The sound makes Alec smile a little bigger and that in turn makes Magnus smile more as well.

Even though Alec shrugged it off, Magnus wasn’t lying. He really isn’t usually one to let people into his space. When he’s hooked up in the past, it’s usually in an alternately designed bedroom he switches out for the evening, one equipped to handle whatever wild turns his evenings often take. Very few people see the actual bedroom Magnus calls home, with its distinct personal touches, but something about Alec makes Magnus want him to be one of the lucky few. He watches the taller boy as he continues to peruse the room, running his fingertips across a bookshelf of books of varying ages and degrees of decay, before turning back to face him.

“So,” Alec starts, but his words die out when he catches Magnus staring at him.

“How about that dance?” Magnus suggests, taking a few small steps toward Alec.

Alec lets out a shaky huff, as if the very idea of dancing is stressing him out already. Magnus can’t help but be completely endeared by it.

“I was serious earlier – I really can’t dance,” Alec gently insists as Magnus continues advancing on him.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Magnus says, coming to a stop when he’s almost toe-to-toe with Alec.

“I’m telling you, I wasn’t made for dancing.” 

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right partner, yet,” Magnus says, holding Alec’s gaze as he offers his hand, silently willing Alec to take it.

Alec’s gaze drops to the extended hand and the room is relatively silent as he seems to think it over.

“I don’t dance,” Alec says again.

“Your sister said you don’t come to parties, either, and yet here you are. So maybe, just for tonight - since you’re already doing things you don’t do – maybe tonight you do dance…?”

Alec flicked his tongue over his lips almost subconsciously, rising his gaze to meet Magnus’ once more. He gives a barely noticeable nod before lifting his hand and placing it in Magnus’, a slightly clammy but warm embrace as Magnus curves his fingers and holds on gently.

Magnus smiles at Alec, who looks adorably nervous considering all they’ve done is hold hands, essentially. Magnus takes Alec’s free hand and places it on his waist before draping his own hand onto Alec’s shoulder. He’d prefer to wind it around the boy’s neck and draw their bodies even closer together but the last thing he wants to do is scare the beautiful boy away by being too forward. Besides, there’s something exciting to Magnus about having to show restraint for once.

“Okay?” Magnus checks and Alec gives a tiny nod. Magnus lifts his hand from Alec’s shoulder to click his fingers, a soft jazz instrumental beginning to play from an indistinguishable source, the music seemingly all around them, before settling it back on his shoulder and slowly starting to guide the taller man into a gentle swaying dance.

Magnus watches Alec as they move together, the way he keeps his eyes on their barely-shifting feet and bites gently at his bottom lip for fear of messing up.

“Alec, look at me.”

And he does, lifting his gaze to lock onto Magnus, who smiles reassuringly at him.

“You’re doing great. You can breathe.”

Alec’s lips pull into an embarrassed smile, a tiny huff accompanying it as if he really had forgotten to breathe from the simple movements they were making (he had).

“I can’t believe I’m dancing, with a guy, at a party,” Alec says, voice full of wonder, and Magnus can’t help but feel mystified too. It’s so little but it somehow feels like so much.

“How does it feel?”

“Amazing,” Alec answers instinctively and halts the moment he realises what he’s said. Magnus smiles warmly at him, squeezing his hand a little.

“I’m glad.”

Alec gives a small smile of his own and Magnus nudges him back into movement, the two of them pressing a little closer than before and swaying a little more, almost teetering on the edge of something real.

*********

It’s snowing out and Raphael huddles into his winter coat despite himself. He knows he doesn’t necessarily need the warmth or the protection, but it feels nice to do something so human. It reminds him of times long past, when he and his family used to walk to church on Christmas Eve, all wrapped up in second hand coats and scarves and jackets. They were poor but they were happy, even as they got snow in their shoes through the holes on the bottom.

The memory makes him smile, as it often does, and he tells himself not to think about where his siblings are now. Years separate him from the siblings he once had and he knows it’s impractical but he can’t help but hope that they’re all doing okay, wherever it is they may find themselves now. Christmas tends to make Raphael slightly more sentimental than usual.

There’s a scuffling behind him and Raphael’s turns whip-fast, glaring at the intruder as the heavy front door of the apartment building falls shut.

“Whoa,” a young guy exclaims, holding his hands up in surrender, “Didn’t mean to startle you – I just came out for some fresh air. Things are getting a little _wild_ in there.”

Raphael narrows his eyes, watches the guy’s glasses fog up some from the stark contrast in temperature, and decides that he poses no threat.  

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Because if I am, I can just leave,” the guy continues, looking almost hopeful as he continues rambling, “I didn’t even want to come tonight, you know, but my friends made me. ‘Come to the party, Simon,’ they said, ‘it’ll be fun,’ they said. I don’t know about you but watching my friends flirt and grind shamelessly with guys is not my idea of fun.”

The boy lets out a breathless laugh and Raphael feels his lips twitch upwards slightly, too. He quickly schools his features back into his neutral expression.

“ _God_ , it’s cold out,” the boy says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should not have left the party. Or at least I should have brought my jacket with me before I did. Stupid move, Lewis, real stupid.”

Raphael tries to tune him out but he somehow can’t bring himself to stop watching the guy as he starts hopping from foot to foot trying to warm himself up. It’s distracting.

“Here,” Raphael says, unbuttoning his coat and shrugging it off, “Take mine.”

The guy, _Simon_ , he supposes, blinks at him, eyes shifting between Raphael’s face and the coat being extended toward him.

“Are you serious? It’s freezing out here.”

“Do you want it or not?” Raphael snaps and Simon lunges forward to take it quickly from his hands.

“Are you sure, though?” he asks again, but he’s already pulling the coat on so it was mere courtesy that made him ask. “I don’t want you to get pneumonia or something.”

“I won’t,” Raphael says, and at the confused look on Simon’s face Raphael realises he’s got to make up some excuse as to why. “I’ve spent my whole life here – I’m used to the cold.”

The lame excuse must satisfy him because he nods and buries his face in the popped collar of the coat, shoving his hands deep into the woollen pockets as he drops down to sit beside Raphael on the front step of the building. Raphael keeps his gaze out on the street beyond them.

“Well, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’m Simon, by the way.”

Raphael flicks his gaze across to Simon, who’s watching him expectantly from behind thick frames. He tries not to notice the way this talkative stranger looks in his warm jacket.

“Raphael.”

Recognition dawns on Simon’s face. “Ohhh, _you’re_ Raphael!”

If Raphael’s blood still pumped, a blush would probably creep up on his cheeks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, mildly defensive.

“Nothing,” Simon insists, catching Raphael’s turn and fumbling in his haste to explain himself, “I just – my friend told me that if I came I’d get to meet you and I’ve heard a lot about you is all – all good things, I promise – and you’re just-“

Raphael watches as Simon’s gaze rakes over him. He feels oddly vulnerable in that moment for a reason he can’t quite place.

“I’m gonna stop before I say something stupid,” Simon concludes and Raphael can tell the pink on his cheeks is definitely from embarrassment more than the biting winter winds.

“You and your friends talk too much,” Raphael says, looking back out at the street.

Simon grins.

“That’s probably true.”

Raphael holds a hand out and catches some falling snow, letting it fall through his fingers every now and then. He can feel Simon watching him in the silence, the sounds of nearby traffic and the music from their apartment serving as the only background noise for their strangely intimate scene.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” Simon asks eventually.

“Positive.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.” Raphael says evenly, still watching the falling snow.

“I feel bad now,” Simon says and Raphael sighs in annoyance, turning to see Simon already unbuttoning the jacket, “Here – take it back.”

“I said I don’t need it, leave it on.”

“Just take it back,” Simon insists, somehow managing to pull one arm free of the jacket despite the lack of space between them on the step.

Raphael reaches out and gets a hold of Simon’s shoulder, stopping him in the process of trying to shrug the jacket off completely. It hangs loosely from one of his shoulders, the empty sleeve dangling into the snow, and Simon blinks at him.

“Remember what I said about you talking too much? Still true. Shut up and keep the jacket.”

Raphael’s fingers brush against Simon’s bare neck as he reaches to grab the loose half of the jacket and pull it back into place but Simon stops him before he can because the other boy’s touch was _freezing_ and if Simon didn’t feel certain about giving the jacket back before, he definitely does now. But Raphael is insistent so Simon blurts out the only thing he can think of.

“I’ll only keep it if we share.”

Raphael raises his eyes to meet Simon’s and Simon smiles at him, feeling his cheeks go red hot.

“What?”

Simon takes his free hand and holds the empty side of the jacket out, a silent invitation.

“I said I don’t need it,” Raphael says but his voice isn’t as insistent as before.

“Then I don’t need it either – I’ve lived here my whole life too,” Simon uses Raphael’s previous argument against him, moving to shrug off the other sleeve of the jacket but Raphael reaches out and grabs the jacket before it falls down his frame, holding it in place.

“Fine,” Raphael snaps, hands faltering as Simon stops moving, “Just keep the damn thing on.”

Simon grins but Raphael just shoves him over some as he moves into the space of the jacket. It’s a wide jacket, for sure, but definitely not wide enough for two grown men and Raphael groans in annoyance as he shuffles in beside this guy he barely knows. Simon makes room for Raphael as best as he can, fixing his half of the jacket so it sits properly on his shoulder. Raphael slips his arm into the free sleeve and can feel the tension in the material as the two of them sit side by side and stretch it a little beyond its size.

“We’re too wide,” Simon notes with a quiet laugh.

“Maybe because we’re fitting two people in a jacket made for one,” Raphael’s voice is dripping in bitter sarcasm.

“All we have to do is take up less space,” Simon says, shifting closer to Raphael and winding his free arm around Raphael’s waist. Raphael flicks his gaze from where he was grumpily watching the street to meet Simon’s eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving space.”

“Do you do this with everyone you meet randomly on the street?” Raphael asks gruffly.

 _Only the cute ones_ , Simon wants to say, but he can’t quite bring himself to mutter the words. All his bravery was used up in getting Raphael to share the jacket with him, either that or the actual sharing has rendered him incapable of doing much more because it is such an experience being this close to him. He smells like something sweet and dark and a little spicy, like an expensive glass of champagne on an important night out, and it makes Simon feel unbelievably cosy despite the wind getting through the gap in the opening of the jacket.

“I bet we could do the buttons up if you moved in closer,” Simon suggests quietly, nervously, and he looks up to meet Raphael’s eyes.

“Why would we want to do that?”

“Because I can feel how cold you are through your clothes. Don’t you feel that?”

Raphael pauses, watching this unsuspecting guy try his hardest to warm up someone that hasn’t known warmth for a very long time. Something in him weakens a little bit. He twists in the jacket and puts his arm around Simon’s waist too, inadvertently pulling him in against his body. Simon smiles, closing the small amount of distance between them and pressing himself against Raphael in a way he didn’t realise he was so desperate to do. There is an exciting buzz underneath his skin and bubbling away in his tummy, electricity in the air between them when their eyes meet again.

“So,” Simon starts, a little lost in the feeling. “What now?”

Raphael smirks, “You tell me. This was your plan, remember?”

Simon thinks for a moment, looking out at the snow before turning his attention back to Raphael. “Maybe we should just get to know each other. It’s not every day you share a jacket with a stranger, right? It seems like the perfect time for some bonding.”

“What makes you think I want to bond with you?”

“You chose to stay out here with me rather than going inside,” Simon points out, “You must have wanted something.”

“I’m only still here because you’re less annoying than that party is,” Raphael says gruffly.

“Thanks,” Simon says instinctively before pausing and crinkling his nose some as Raphael’s words catch up to him. “I think.”

Raphael can’t help but let out a short puff of a laugh, bewildered and more than a little endeared as the rambly man beside him starts up a long-winded tale.

*********

“I should be getting back,” Alec says quietly, carefully breaking the trance they’d fallen into.

Their one dance had turned into two, three, four – the songs spilling into each other until both of them stopped noticing when one song finished and another began. They were content to just hold each other, moving together in the solitude of Magnus’ bedroom in the most innocent of ways, even if they had ended up significantly closer to one another than when they’d first started. The songs were soft and their touches gentle and it felt so far removed from the obscene grinding on the dance floor they had both seen earlier out in the main room of Magnus’ apartment, where the party was no doubt still raging. The innocence of their slow dancing felt right, though, somehow, despite Magnus’ tendency for much bolder gestures around people he’s interested in and he can’t help but give a sigh as Alec’s words bring them crashing back to earth, lifting his head from Alec’s chest and pulling back some to consider him curiously.

“We have a curfew,” Alec explains, awkwardly.

“How old are you again?” Magnus teases and Alec lets out a quiet laugh, nodding slightly, knowing how ridiculous it sounds.

They fall into silence again aside from the delicate music playing overhead and they’re still holding each other, watching each other, despite having stopped their swaying.

“Do you want to go?” Magnus asks carefully.

Alec looks torn as he considers the question before murmuring a gentle, “No.”

“Then don’t.”

With a sigh, Alec retracts his hands and Magnus suddenly feels cold across his waist and palm, as if where their bodies connected were the only warm points he knew.

“I can’t do that,” Alec says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You can’t stay a little longer at a holiday party?”

“I can’t stay any longer at _this_ party,” Alec corrects, wincing once he realises the meaning of his words.

There’s a beat of silence.

“I’d almost forgotten you were a shadowhunter,” Magnus muses, voice unreadable as he puts distance between them, wandering a few steps away under the guise of conjuring himself a fresh drink.

Alec frowns. He knows where Magnus’ comment comes from, the relationship between shadowhunters and downworlders is historically rocky at best, but he had hoped that even in their short period of knowing each other, Magnus could tell that he wasn’t the same as the others.

“Please don’t misunderstand me,” Alec says calmly, “Being a shadowhunter does not mean I share all of their views.”

Magnus sighs, tired from a battle that’s much older than Alec is. “I don’t want to misunderstand you, Alec, but in return I hope you give me a chance to be properly heard as well.”

“Of course – it’s only fair,” Alec says diplomatically, before softening some. “I want you to know that if it were up to me, I would stay, but we snuck out to come here and they’re going to notice eventually. The last thing I want is shadowhunters knocking down your door trying to find us.”  

Perhaps it’s misplaced fear from years of being on the receiving end of a distinct lack of understanding from people like Alec or maybe it’s the knowledge that someone who was awkward and closed off not too long ago is now asking for and accepting opportunities to be more open and understanding of and with him. Maybe it’s the knowledge that Magnus is the personification of so many things shadowhunters view as problematic and Alec is still there in his presence regardless. Whatever it is, Magnus feels emboldened because Alec _wants to stay_ and get to know him better. He just can’t right now.

“So, when should we do it?” he tries for casual but even that comes out a little flirty. Alec definitely notices because Magnus sees his cheeks flush slightly and he’s not even sorry about it.

“What?” Alec stammers out.

“You said you have to leave, but we both want to understand each other properly,” Magnus wanders back over to Alec, close but not so close that the proximity would startle him, “So shouldn’t we make plans to ensure it happens?”

“I-uh-“

“Unless you’ve changed your mind already,” Magnus baits, almost childish in his attempt to get Alec to take a step forward, and he grins when he does.

“No,” Alec blurts, “I mean – I haven’t…changed my mind.” He rubs at the back of his neck a beat later, glancing down at his shoes slightly but not so much that Magnus can’t see the slight upward tug of his lips.

“I want to see you again,” Alec admits carefully.

Magnus can’t help but grin. “It was my dancing skills that won you over, wasn’t it?”

Alec snorts, rolling his eyes playfully, clearly grateful for the shift in mood. “If you can call swaying in one spot _skills_.”

“Consider tonight a mere glimpse of the many skills I possess, both dancing and otherwise.”

Alec visibly swallows and Magnus can’t help but watch the rise and fall of the other man’s Adam’s apple.

 He flicks his gaze up to meet Alec’s eyes. “What did you think about your first dance, anyway?”

“It was different.”

It hadn’t taken Magnus long to realise that Alec was someone who needed time to digest situations and express himself properly, so he merely raised his eyebrows in response, silently prompting Alec into elaborating further.

“Nice different,” Alec clarifies. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

Magnus is about to comment that he knows, that Alec’s confession of having never danced before was part of why he dragged him into his bedroom to slow dance in private in the first place, when he catches onto the sincerity in Alec’s eyes and realises that _oh_ , it’s not just dancing that Alec is talking about.

“You’ve never been this close with a man before?”

“Not in this kind of setting,” Alec admits slowly, “Shadowhunters are typically old school about things like this.”

“Speaking as someone who is actually from the old school, Shadowhunters really need to loosen up,” Magnus jokes, having noticed the slightly pinched expression Alec is wearing. Alec just hums in acknowledgement so Magnus decides to move on, skimming over any conversation over the archaic system Alec is a part of. “How did it feel?”

Alec mulls it over for a moment before finally breathing out a relieved, “Right.”

Magnus is oddly proud and he’s wearing a smile soft enough to prove it, watching as a smaller, shier smile spreads across Alec’s lips.

“Good,” Magnus says. They’re watching each other and Magnus can’t help but drop his gaze from Alec’s eyes to his lips and back up again, curious and suddenly hungry for something significantly bolder than anything they’ve done all evening. Alec must notice because he bites at the edge of his bottom lip and flicks his glance away. Magnus knows he should feel rejected but he doesn’t. It’s a night of firsts for the both of them.

“Is there anything else I can help you with before you have to go?”

Alec laughs, short and breathy. “Do you have to make this sound like a business transaction?”

Magnus shrugs, “Customer satisfaction is my priority.” 

He’s rewarded with the sight of Alec’s pink cheeks and thinks, not for the first time that evening, that his shamelessness really works in his favour when it comes to Alec Lightwood.

“I should really get going,” Alec says again, but his voice sounds even less interested in leaving than it did before and Magnus can’t help but grin.

“Shouldn’t we exchange numbers before you go?” He asks, pulling out his phone and offering it to Alec.

Alec eyes the device wearily before slowly taking it, tapping in his digits carefully.

“I’m not very good at texting,” Alec excuses lamely, passing the phone back, and Magnus can see right through him.

“You don’t have to worry, Alec. I know my clothes and general demeanour may suggest otherwise, but I am capable of being lowkey. There’s no pressure for this to be anything more than you want it to be. Let’s just see what happens.”

Magnus offers a smile and Alec looks relieved as he follows suit.

“I’d like that.”

*********

“Haven’t seen you much this evening,” Magnus starts innocently, having snuck up on Raphael the moment he spotted him. Not that you can really sneak up on a vampire but Raphael is kind enough to play along with Magnus’ theatrics sometimes.

“So?” Raphael asks, sounding bored.

“ _So_ ,” Magnus says pointedly, “You didn’t leave, did you? Because I won your attendance at this party fair and square so if you skipped out on it in any way, you better be prepared to pay me considerable compensation.”

Raphael rolls his eyes, too tired from his exhausting extended conversation with a human to be dealing with Magnus’ melodrama already. He had hoped that once he returned to the apartment and the party, Magnus would see him and be satisfied enough to leave him hiding in the corner of their living room, but evidently not.

“Relax. I did not leave the party.”

“Then where were you?”

“Outside.”

Magnus narrows his eyes, “That sounds like skipping the party.”

“Well it wasn’t. One of your guests came out and wouldn’t leave me alone all night. He even made me share a jacket with him.”

“He _what_?” Magnus’ jaw drops before he breaks into a large grin. “What do you mean he _made_ you? Are you or are you not Raphael Santiago, head of the New York clan? Because I was under the impression my dear friend Raphael was never made to do anything he didn’t want to do.”

“That’s rich coming from the person who _made_ me attend the party in the first place,” Raphael points out bitterly but Magnus just waves a dismissive hand.

“Who was this oh-so persuasive gentleman, hm? I should send him flowers for being so interesting that you spoke with him all evening instead of skulking off into the shadows.”

“I was already in the shadows when he found me,” Raphael clarifies.

“So you were willingly sharing clothes in the dark with the man, huh?” Magnus’ eyes glittered with excitement. “So who was he? Seelie? Wolfie? Fellow child of the night?”

“Human,” Raphael answers quietly and Magnus’s excitement kicks up another notch, catching the attention of nearby party goers as he smacks Raphael’s arm.

“What?! Who is he?!”

Raphael shrugs away from Magnus’ wandering hands as he manages to grit out, “Simon something.”

And that brings Magnus to a halt.

“Who?”

“Simon.”

“I don’t know a Simon.”

“Well you must because he was here.”

“I’m telling you I don’t,” Magnus huffed, narrowing his eyes at Raphael. “Are you making things up so I’ll believe you stayed here?”

“Why would I make up something as embarrassing as sharing a jacket with some random human out in the snow for a couple of hours?”

Magnus tilts his head, conceding the point.

“Is he still here? Point him out to me.”

Raphael shook his head, “He kept yawning out there so I told him to go home.”

Magnus gives Raphael a knowing, expectant look and when his friend finally catches his eyes, he’s immediately defensive.

“What?”

“Who knew you could be so caring?”

“It was a convenient out of the conversation, what do you want from me?”

“More details, to be honest,” Magnus is practically bouncing in excitement, this turn of events practically unprecedented throughout their friendship. “Was he cute?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, here,” Raphael grumbles but Magnus continues on as if he hadn’t heard him.

“He must have been for you to willingly spend so much time with him.”

“It wasn’t exactly willing.”

“What, did he threaten you with garlic or something when you tried to leave?” At Raphael’s unimpressed glare, Magnus continued. “It sounds pretty willing to me-“

“Simon,” Raphael interrupts, half surprised and half concerned because the man in question just pushed through the crowd around them and is now standing _right there_. He’s got snow in his hair and on the shoulders of Raphael’s jacket, which still hangs loosely over his frame and Raphael tries to ignore the way his best friend perks up beside him, casting appraising eyes over Simon as he approaches them. “I thought you went home.”

“I did,” Simon huffs, but his lack of breath is clearly a result from rushing if the pink on his cheeks is any indication. “I mean, kind of. I got half way to the subway station before I realised that I didn’t want the night to just _end_ like this.”

Raphael’s eyebrows pull together. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You fascinate me, Raphael. And I’d really love to see you again. So, if you’re okay with it, could we maybe exchange phone numbers? I promise I don’t text as much as I talk. I mean, maybe I do, but at least texts are easy to ignore when they’re too much, right? Not that I want you to ignore me-“

“Yes.”

“-but – wait, what?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll give you my number.”

“Seriously?”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “Do you want it or not?”

“Yes,” Simon answers, almost too quickly, as he hurriedly pulls his phone from his pocket and lets Raphael type in his number.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” An all too smug voice asks from beside them, and Raphael cringes, having forgotten about Magnus overseeing the whole interaction. “Are you-?”

Raphael shoves the phone back in Simon’s hands, “You can leave now.”

“I can stay a little longer-“ Simon protests, not understanding the hint Raphael was trying to send him to _leave before it’s too late_.

“Yeah, he can stay a little longer, Raphael, let the boy stay.” Magnus gives Raphael a smug grin before turning his attention back to Simon. “Who are you, anyway? I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Raphael rolls his eyes, knowing full well that Magnus is only asking for an introduction to be a nuisance.

“It was a big party,” Simon excuses happily, “It’s okay that we didn’t get the chance to meet. I’m Simon.”

“Curious,” Magnus muses, “I don’t remember inviting a Simon to this party.”

“Oh,” Simon squeaks, his cheeks burning a light pink. “I, uh, came with the Lightwoods.”

“Oh you did, did you?”

Simon nods sheepishly, “Isabelle made it sound like we were all welcome but I’m sorry for coming uninvited. I didn’t mean to crash-“

“Oh it’s perfectly okay, Simba,” Magnus smiles, throwing an arm around Simon’s shoulders as he blinks at the name-change. “I trust Isabelle’s judgement and it seems like we’re all friends here now anyway. Aren’t we, Raph?”

Raphael can only cross his arms over his chest, making Magnus laugh at the effort.

“Raphael doesn’t give his number out to just anybody, you see,” he says, almost conspiratorially to Simon, “So I’d say you’ve won him over quite well this evening.”

“Really?” Simon asks, sounding surprised and encouraged and a little baffled. He flicks his gaze to Raphael and can’t help the warm feeling that spreads in his body.

“Oh yes. I’ve known him for quite some time and this is unprecedented behaviour.”

“Magnus-“ Raphael warns, gritting his teeth, and Magnus can only laugh, dropping his arm from Simon’s shoulder and patting it instead. Simon is watching the both of them like he can’t quite comprehend what’s happening. He probably can’t.

“Anywho, I best be going. The host can’t stay with one person too long, can he? One last thing before I go, though,” Magnus says, clicking his fingers almost as if the action was accompanying a sudden thought, but Raphael knew better. “Don’t forget to look up before you leave, hm?”

As Magnus skittered away, Simon looked up to the roof. Raphael didn’t even have to look to know that above them now dangled a sprig of mistletoe that definitely wasn’t there earlier, Magnus using his magic to cause mischief as per usual.

“Huh. Mistletoe,” Simon says somewhat dumbly, pointing up to the greenery. “I didn’t even see it there.”

“Just ignore it,” Raphael says evenly.

“What if I don’t want to?” Simon says and Raphael raises his eyebrows some as their eyes meet.

The moment is heavy from Simon’s words and Raphael’s lack of response, the party still raging around them. Eventually Raphael clears his throat gently.

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” Simon pushes but Raphael shakes his head. “If it’s about the whole vampire thing, I’m okay with it.”

“What?” Raphael balks, “You know?”

Simon nods easily, “Of course. You don’t get to be friends with the Lightwoods without learning a few secrets.”

“How many secrets?” Raphael narrows his gaze. More important than the human knowing more than Raphael assumed he knew is the threat that the Lightwoods are apparently less discrete with their knowledge of the downworld than Raphael and Magnus had expected.

“Just a few,” Simon says with a shrug, “Like I know Magnus is a warlock and that this whole party wouldn’t exist without his magic and I know that you’re the head vampire in New York which, I gotta say, I had expected you to be a lot scarier than you are. Honestly, you’re kinda nice. Not when you’re glaring at me like you are right now, of course, but earlier, in the snow – you were nice. Not to mention _hot-_ ”

The admission makes Raphael falter some and he lets out a sigh, feeling bone tired all of a sudden.

“-So, like I said, if it’s the vampire thing I don’t mind,” Simon repeats, hands in his pockets and looking all too sincere for Raphael’s liking.

“I don’t do this,” Raphael says lamely, as if that explains everything that’s stopping him from stepping forward and kissing Simon.

“And what, I look like I do?” Simon asks, a little incredulous. “Look at me, I’m a nerd. I’ve never been in this situation before in my life, let alone with someone as hot as you.”

Raphael’s brows quirk slightly and Simon laughs some.

“Trust me, I don’t do this either. But maybe tonight we both can?”

Raphael watches Simon, eyes flicking over his cute features and settling on the pink lips he kept getting distracted by all evening. It’s true that he usually doesn’t do this. Raphael had abandoned the idea of romance many years earlier and yet he finds himself inexplicably drawn to Simon.

“Please say something,” Simon gently pleads, “This silence is killing my confidence here. I know you’re like way out of my league but I thought we really hit it off-“

Raphael grabs Simon by the lapels of his (Raphael’s) jacket and pulls him into his body, pressing their lips together softly. It’s a tame kiss, partly because of Raphael’s years of inexperience, but it’s sweet all the same, tingles sparking up across his skin. A few of the party goers around them start to clap and whistle crudely at their display, prompting Raphael to break away before they attract too much attention, his need for privacy winning out over the desire to keep kissing Simon. They remain close together, Raphael’s hands still gripping his jacket on Simon’s frame as their breaths mingle.

“You talk too much,” Raphael murmurs.

Simon blinks dumbly, licking at his bottom lip absentmindedly. “Noted.”

The action is so distracting that Raphael can’t help himself from leaning in to kiss Simon chastely once more, pulling back fully before Simon can even react to the second kiss.

“Merry Christmas, Simon.”                                                                                                      

“I’m Jewish,” Simon corrects in a daze and Raphael can’t hold back his quiet laughter at how dumb two simple kisses have made him.

“Happy Hanukkah, then.”

“It sure is,” Simon nods, a picture of lazy enthusiasm, as he inches into Raphael’s space again. He carefully places a hand on Raphael’s jaw, holding his gaze.

“Merry Christmas,” Simon murmurs, pressing another gentle kiss to Raphael’s lips.

Raphael ignores the warning bells in his mind, the ones that tell him all the reasons why he shouldn’t be kissing Simon right there in a crowd full of people, especially with Magnus watching on, that smug bastard. Instead, Raphael slides his arm around Simon’s waist, just like he had earlier, only this time he lets himself enjoy the moment and a most unexpected and beautiful Christmas gift.

 _Merry Christmas, indeed_ , Raphael thinks.


End file.
